


Dryden's End

by Thatonegothynerd



Series: Adventures of The Scarred [17]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:13:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatonegothynerd/pseuds/Thatonegothynerd
Summary: On what would be the final night of his life, Dryden Brigand has only on goal: keep his daughter safe.





	Dryden's End

It was long past midnight when Dryden Brigand was woken by his frantic daughter. One look at her face told him something was very, very wrong. Her white eyes were wide with fear and full of tears and her usual smile was gone. He got up immediately and grabbed his daughter in a hug. 

“Dad. Dad I need help,” she said, crying into his shoulder. “Oh gods. Oh gods what have I done-”

“Shhhh,” he consoled her. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here. It’s all going to be okay.” 

This was not the first time Arabella had come home in tears. There had been many times he had seen her this way, but it wasn’t any less devastating to him each time it happened. A father never gets used to seeing his child in distress. 

“It’s different this time,” Arabella said, finally catching her breath. “I did something. I didn’t mean to do it but - oh gods this is all my fault. It’s all my fault Dad.”

“What happened?” Dryden asked, pulling back slightly to look at his daughter’s face. 

“It’s councilman Rhodor,” she said. “He’s dead. He’s dead and it’s all my fault.”

Panic shot through Dryden. 

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know the wine was poisoned! You have to know I wouldn’t do this. Dad please,” she said.

“Who sent the wine?” Dryden asked. Dead calm in his voice. He knew what the answer would be and he hoped he was wrong.

“Vasily,” she said and his suspicion was confirmed. “Why would he do this? Oh gods his father is dead and I killed him oh gods.”

“Arabella, angel, you did not kill him,” he said, voice much more calm than he felt. “Vasily did. He sent the wine.”

“But-”

“No. This is not your fault,” he said, but didn’t say what he was really thinking. This was his fault. He never should have made her work in that house. Never should have let her get that close to Vasily. He loved his daughter, and knew how much she loved this boy. He shouldn’t have been so blinded by his want for her happiness. He had been a terrible father. 

“Arabella. We have to get you out of here,” he said. 

“But what about-” she started.

“I don’t want you to worry about anything other than trying to get away from here as fast as possible. Do you understand?” he said, already moving as she nodded. 

First he went to the loose floorboard and pulled up a small pouch that held some coins. Emergency funds he had stashed away years ago. He had hoped that he would never need them, that he could give them to her as a gift someday. Then he went to the closet and pulled out his best cloak, a dark and heavy thing that would hopefully keep her warm. Finally he grabbed his bag and added some food to it, enough for a few days at least. All the while Arabella followed behind him, like a watchful shadow. After he had gathered everything he put the bag over her shoulder and fastened the cloak and tears welled up in her eyes again. 

“Dad-” she started, but he stopped her again.

“Leave through the backdoor, go to the western edge of the town. It should be clear this time of night but stay away from the main road, that’s where they’ll look for you. Don’t talk to anyone unless absolutely necessary and don’t trust other people on the road -”

“Dad-”

“It’s all going to be okay. You’ll be okay Arabella. Everything is going to be okay.” Dryden feel the comforting lie on his tongue. He knew this wasn’t going to end well, but she could make it out. She  _ would  _ make it out, he thought. He would get his daughter out safely. 

“I love you, Dad,” she said and hugged him tightly.

“I love you too, my little angel,” he said and hugged her just as tight. Tears welled up in his eyes as he did, but he quickly wiped them away. He didn’t want to hinder her escape with worry for him. 

As the pair held each other, sound began to come from the front of the house. At first it was the sounds of people talking. Then the sound grew to yelling. Then to pounding on the front door. The voices yelled awful things about the  _ demon  _ inside the house. About how they wanted to see Arabella dead. 

Dryden pushed his daughter away enough to press a kiss to her forehead then rushed her to the back of their small home. 

“Don’t look back, Arabella. Just keep going,” he said as he ushered her out the door and into the night beyond. 

...

Dryden Brigand did not fear death. As he watched the noose be hung from the tree before him, the crowd behind him calling for blood, he did not cry. He was not afraid, but he was very sad. He was sad that these people hated so deeply that they would kill someone for being different instead of recognizing the real monster in their midst. He was sad he would never see Lilith again, like he promised her so long ago he would. And he was sad he would never see his daughter again. Arabella would be alone after he was gone.

He hoped she kept her kindness. Too often the world turned people cruel, but over twenty years she had remained kind. That was what he was most proud of her for. She had seen the evil in the world but had chosen to remain kind. He also hoped she would find what she wanted: The love and sense of belonging that he as one person could never give her. 

As he stepped up onto a barrel beneath the rope and the noose was tightened around his neck, Dryden sent up a silent prayer. Not a prayer for himself, for him to go to a pleasant afterlife, but a prayer for his daughter. A prayer that Arabella Brigand would find a happy life out there somewhere, even if he wasn’t around to see it. 

“Any final words?” someone near him asked. He didn’t know who it was, nor did he care. 

Dryden Brigand smiled as he looked out to the crowd, full of people that wanted the one thing he cared about most in the world dead.

“I love my daughter.”

The barrel was kicked out from underneath his feet. Dryden Brigand was dead, a kind smile still upon his face. 


End file.
